There's something different about growing up black and Muslim, especially in New Jersey. It's like when I left the mosque and I left my dad, I felt unprotected, but I also felt a weird sense of pride, like I was involved in this other way of living that was cool to me.

When I just decided to be myself, that's when you get questions like, 'How do you feel about feminism?' And I have no idea; this is just when I decide what I'm not tolerating and what I genuinely think and a little bit in between.

I don't think I'm inherently feminist. I think the universe wants me to be feminist, and I think I resonate with that. I think it just chose me to be this female energy... thing. And I'm very drawn to female energy, but I don't really have any prerequisites in feminism. I just roll with it.

Control is not real, and I'm really understanding that every day. It's about the acceptance of relinquishing control that makes it powerful for you.

My mother's studies stopped with the third year of primary school, my father with the first. They taught me a deep sense of duty. But nobody was involved in politics in my family.

What I think was a really lucky coincidence was that a lot of the themes of 'Okja' are things I write about a lot: cognitive dissonance and corporate greed and also the internal politics of fringe groups.

I understand that government should live within its means, value the money it holds in trust from you the taxpayer, avoid waste and, above all else, observe the first maxim of good government: namely, do no avoidable harm.

We have evidence that a number of Bahrainis who oppose our government are being trained in Syria. I have seen the files and we have notified the Syrian authorities, but they deny any involvement.